Harry Potter: The Edge of Wizardry
by Ginny Sue
Summary: *Little slash. D/H* Harry's diary for first year. (Bridget Jones-ish.)
1. Default Chapter

Harry Potter's Diary: The Edge of Wizardry  
  
Disclaimer: Any brain fever suffered from the utter tosh that is written here I humbly apologise for. In other news, I have no claim to anything, or character, created by JK. Rowling and I appreciate the inspiration of Bridget Jones's Diary.  
  
******************** August: Part One ********************  
  
Entry One:  
  
Height: taller than cat, smaller than my uncle. About 3ft.maybe 4ft? (never good with spatial relations.) Weight: 5st. v. good Alcohol units: None. Am under age. Damn damn damn. Would definitely ease the pain of living with Dursleys. Spiders Propositioning Me: four. v. bad.  
  
Am living under the stairs. Rather cosy really, and the spiders are tolerable. Have made friends with many and call them by name. On first name basis with the dust bunnies and am inviting them around for tea. Hmmm.do not actually have way to boil water, as no kettle under the stairs. No tea either. And no water. Will have to cancel tea date then. Just as well as is imaginary any way.  
  
Am v. lonely. Want to die. Am fashion reject in fat cousins clothing. Hate the Dursleys. Hate real parents for dying in car crash and leaving me here all alone. Hate damn scar. Scars are so last year. Little round glasses, too. Shudder. Kill me. And don't forget the hair, this godawful, unmanageable hair. Would sue all hair product manufactures if only Dursleys would let me out of the house.  
  
  
  
Entry Two  
  
Height: still taller than a cat and shorter than my uncle Weight: 4st. v.v.good (was denied food after zoo episode) Alcohol units: still none. Spider's Propositioning Me: none. v. disappointing (am unloved) Dangerous animals set loose: one (pat self on back)  
  
Is awful cousin's birthday. Had to listen to the fat saturated sponge complain about lack of presents this morning while I cooked the bacon. He received only thirty-five. Sigh. Have never got a birthday present in my life. (Hate my life.)  
  
Am going to zoo. Was threatened repeatedly by my uncle, but threats not scary anymore, just tedious. Not quite sure what a zoo is, as have never been let out of the house before. Fear it is some sort of strange place where people are prodded and snickered at. Dursleys are obviously sadists and that would be their idea of fun.  
  
Later:  
  
Zoo was v. fun. Is actually a place where animals are prodded and snickered at, so I was relieved all things considered. Talked with a snake and set it free from its cage. Everyone screamed and yelled and ran while I smiled. Quite enjoyable. Fear I might be a bit psychotic. I blame my traumatic up bringing. Will send the Dursleys all the psychology bills.  
  
Still hating my life.  
  
Entry Three:  
  
Height: With strange new sticky uppy haircut, the same as my uncle (5ft?) Not counting hair, shorter than my uncle (2ft?) Weight: 4st. continuing good work (though cannot be helped as am still not allowed to eat.) Alcohol units: none. Though I drank a pretend martini in letter receiving celebration. Spiders propositioning me: None. Killed them all in anger. Letter's received: One. Hurrah!  
  
Was ordinary day full of self wallowing in self pity (though who else's pity I was to wallow in is unclear) when a letter arrived for me in the post. From a place called Hoggywas? No, that's not right. Maybe it was Hogfarts? Or Higwig? Anyway, am not sure of its geographical location as have never taken a geography class. Pout. Still, suspect that it is someplace full of strange fashion victims as cannot fathom any other place trying to get hold of me.  
  
Unimportant really, though, because in the end the F.S.S (fat saturated sponge) ripped it out of my hands and gave it to my uncle. He tore it up.  
  
Hate my life.  
  
Entry Four:  
  
Height: Shorter than yesterday, if I counted my hair. Weight: 41/2 st. Why? How? Am obviously natural phenomena as have inexplicably created mass. Letter's Received: Many. Hurrah squared!  
  
Obviously this Wart place is desperate to get a hold of someone with my lack of fashion sense qualities. They sent many more letters. Before could touch them though, uncle was burning them. He is nailing the mail slot shut. V. angry.  
  
Am wallowing in self-pity. Dudley gave me a swirlie today. Strangely hair seems more manageable than usually. Perhaps will dunk hair in toilet more often. Yes, am definitely psychotic.  
  
Still hate my life, but am rather chuffed about hair. If only could do something about broken eyeglasses and horrible disfiguring scar.  
  
Entry Five:  
  
Height: Same Weight: 4 ½ stone Am not a phenomena today. Letter's Received: Hundreds. V. popular.  
  
Was serving biscuits to the F.S.S when suddenly letters began shooting out of the fireplace. V. odd but as am psychotic I found nothing terrifying about the situation. Instead managed to catch one and get a good look at the sender: Hogwarts. Also noted an unusually large number of owls perched in the yard. Hope they crap all over the Dursleys' car. Am v. pleased as am v. popular today. House was full to the brim with letters for me, so Uncle had an extra task trying to rip them up. He got many paper cuts. Would have squeezed lemon juice on his had but couldn't get hold of a lemon.  
  
Oh, just heard Uncle run upstairs (he makes a distinct earthquake noise). He appears to be demanding the family pack up. I think he has lost it. Keeps muttering about the 'm' word. Wait. This isn't censored. Why should I censor my own diary?! Magic, magic, MAGIC! Heehee. It's fun to curse.  
  
Still, all in all, hate my life.  
  
  
  
Entry Six  
  
Weight: 4 ½ st. Letter's Received: None. Why? For what? Cannot explain sudden lack in popularity.  
  
Everything is worse than usually. Instead of sleeping in a small bed cramped under the stairs am being forced to spend the night on the cold floor of a stone cabin on the middle of a rocky island. Uncle has clearly gone insane. He seems to think we can escape the post this way. It all seems a bit excessive to me. F.S.S. got the old smelly couch to sleep on; hope it is filled with bed bugs. Heehee. Am v. sad about no letters though, as postal service may be good but it is not row-across-stormy- waters-to-questionably-stable-rocky-island good.  
  
Is my birthday tomorrow. Sigh. Wish I was dead. No, wait. Wish the Dursleys were dead.  
  
Hate my life. Feel like cursing.  
  
MAGIC! MAGIC! MAGIC! Mwhahaha. Feel a little better. 


	2. August

********** August **********  
  
Entry Seven  
  
Weight: 4 ½ st. Acceptable  
  
Letters Received: One  
  
Strange New Facts About Self: One  
  
Was my birthday today: Am eleven! Feeling v. mature. Also, am v. happy for first time in life as have just learned from large hairy man that am a Wizard and am famous in wizarding world! Am "The Boy Who Lived!" Though I fear that my nickname could have been more substantial. Am apparently deeply famous for not dying. Fear wizard community might actually be a bit simple minded or deranged.  
  
Large hairy man, named Hagrid (his parents hated him) seems v. nice. He handed me a small wrapped package containing my mother's green eyes.  
  
"There," Hagrid said, " Now, yeh have yer mother's eyes, though you look like yer father." Suspect he may be gay as he bakes cakes and shows an unusual amount of attachment to a small pink umbrella. Learned shocking news of parents' real death: they were blown up. Kablooie! Parents did not die in mediocre, daytime television hoohum tragedy of car crash but were destroyed by ultimate eeevil wizard, He Who Shall Not Be Named. Much cooler. Feel that cooler death somehow elevates own status. Am no longer merely fashion victim but now celebrity wizard fashion victim with heroic parents.  
  
Have also been basking in the joy of seeing F.S.S horribly disfigured. Hagrid used magic to give him a pig's tail. Was poetry in motion. Laughed much. Yes, am definitely psychotic, and perhaps a little masochistic. Shrug.  
  
Hagrid has taken me away from the Dursleys on a flying motorcycle. Asked if I wanted to join the mile high club. Not sure what that is, but the initiation ceremony sounded painful.  
  
Hope I never have to see Dursleys again, would have to kill myself. But as it is illegal to kill oneself perhaps will not. Do not understand the illigalness of suicide. If it is illegal to kill oneself why is it only people who do not succeed that go to jail and those corpses that succeed are allowed to freely roam the cemetery like normal members of dead society? V. perplexing.  
  
  
  
Entry Eight  
  
Weight: 5st. Have discovered horrible weakness for candy, which is apparently a well-known food to all who were not victims of Dursley parenting.  
  
Alcohol units: Technically none, but Hagrid drinks enough for five so surely some of the liquor vapours are affecting me.  
  
Was informed that Hogwarts is not in fact a village for victims of fashion to be stood away and safely hidden from tourists, but is a school for witchcraft and wizardry, though it too is safely hidden from tourists.  
  
Have confirmed my suspicions about Hagrid's sexuality. He is v. eager to take me shopping. Also, he enjoys showing me off. Am perhaps now a strange boy toy? Hope he does not suggest we get our nails done and our hair curled (hair is unmanageable enough.) Wants to take me to Diagon Alley, which is wizard equivalent of London Fashion Week and a Marks and Spencers rolled into one.  
  
Read over Hogwarts letter again as well as book list and supply list. Need caldrons, and magic books. Hmmm.hope have not fallen in with strange occult crowd. Or equally horrifying, some sort of clown college type deal. Too humiliating.  
  
  
  
Entry Nine  
  
Weight: Same  
  
Alcohol Units: 1. Stole a sip of Hagrid's beer while he was drunkenly passed out and drooling in the peanut dish.  
  
Autographs signed: Hundreds  
  
Hands of Wizards and Witches shaken: Hundreds, including the nervous Dark Arts teacher.  
  
Amount of Babies Kissed: Three (though one had two heads, so many four).  
  
A little too royal family for my taste.  
  
Gorgeous Evil Blondes Met: One  
  
Have had startling revelation and am no longer convinced that Hogwarts is not a place for the fashionly challenged, as all wizards and witches seem to suffer from this social disease. Actually, by wizarding standards my baggy clothes makes me fashion god. Wizards appear to wear dresses, though they insist on calling them robes. Whole wizarding world is in denial about their sexuality. Actually, whole wizarding world is also in denial about being drag queens. Unsure about the witches. Have concluded that will have to become gay though if want to live up to hero status. It must be a wizard requirement anyway. At least, this is what Hagrid tells me.  
  
Off to a good start though as when being fitted for my school dress, met most gorgeous boy named Draco Malfoy (his parents hate him too) He is pale, grey eyed, and blond! Could be man of my dreams, despite obvious evil tendencies. Sexual tension in the room nearly choked me as tried not to stare. In embarrassment, fear I came off like cold, unavailable ice king. Buggar. But then playing hard-to-get seemed to intrigue him. Hmmmmm.perhaps am on to something. Malfoy appeared to be propositioning me and teasing me about joining the right house at school. Even mentioned something about not wanting to be a "huffy poof", but rather a good "slither in". A little pervy really. Was blatant flirt, but mustn't read too much into it. Must erase from mind all images of marriage.besides, have no white dress, and no best man. No ring either.  
  
Also got pet, a snowy owl that delivers the mail, but hope to train it to do other things. Pet store owner made a joke about flying owls and the Mile High Club. Do all wizards know of this secret society except me?  
  
Later got a wand from Ollivanders. V. creepy man insisted I should have the wand with a phoenix feather, and the twin of He Who Shall Not Be Named's (wizards' affinity for naming strikes again) wand. Am apparently going to do great things.though cannot even get wand trick to work that Hagrid showed me using his umbrella.  
  
Entry Ten:  
  
Height: 2ft?  
  
Weight: 6 st. Gaah.  
  
Alcohol units: 23, have discovered bar tender at the Leaky Cauldron would give me all the alcohol I wanted. Something about hoping to score me when I was tipsy enough. When you are famous, everyone wants a piece of you.  
  
Number attempts at Wand Trick: 33  
  
Number of Successes: None.  
  
Need to work out careful timetable as to utilise the best of my.well.time? Is that right? Must ensure that everything goes smoothly September 1st and I get to train station on time.  
  
9am Pack luggage  
  
9.30am Breakfast  
  
9.45am Leave House  
  
10.45 am Arrive at train station  
  
10.50 find platform Nine and ¾ with time to spare.  
  
11am Train Departs  
  
Hagrid gave me my ticket for King's Cross station. Must get back to the Durselys now and wait until September 1st.  
  
Hate my life. 


	3. September

Author's note: To all the wonderful people that read and reviewed this little bit of fluff. My love goes out to elfee, earthquake, rebeccagrace, Valkyrie, MilenaLupin, Amalin, Jeanne Dark, Dominique  
  
And most of all Maya who coaxed people to read this fic and is damn good with the leather whip of inspiration. *winks* Entry Eleven is especially for her and her new found love of a certain wizard boy.  
  
Have taken some liberties with characters and events but have stuck as closly as possible to original plot.or so I say.  
  
  
  
************************* September : Part One *************************  
  
Entry Eleven:  
  
Weight: 3st. Must have burnt thousands of calories through stress and manic laughing.  
  
Alcohol units: None. V. bad. Am terrifyingly sober.  
  
Number of people seeing me naked: Hundreds. Good god, where is the alcohol.  
  
Buggar! All went horrible wrong. Am stressful mess now and is only a pure miracle that made it onto Hogwarts Express on time. Slept in and awoke with severe hangover, resulting in fluffy tongue and bags under eyes to add to normal hellish appearance. Alarm did not go off and was not up until 10.15am. Packed quickly but could not find school dress. Searched for ten minutes until realised had slept in school dress, which was now all wrinkly. Tore school dress off, tossed in suitcase and raced out of house into a mass of people, all of whom were staring, pointing or laughing. Realised in horror that in haste of undressing had forgotten to redress. Private Drive is apply named it seems. Hate my life. Ran back into house trying to ignore a wide eyed Dudley, threw bed sheet around self like toga and braved running outside again. Somehow made it to train station with half-hour to spare and was going to pass the time by attempting Hagrid's wand trick when realised had left wand back at home! Left Dursleys to watch luggage and owl and raced back to Private Drive. Toga, somehow, got snagged accidentally on F.S.S's shoe and ended up running naked through London. Police chased me throughout the populated street but was able to give them the slip. Went into room under the stairs only to find that wand was not in fact in room but was packed away. However, baggy clothes were mysteriously on floor, so was able to get dressed again and hide my shame.  
  
Raced back to train station, and bumped into plump red haired woman, her sons and her daughter. The daughter, named Ginny, is actually quite cute, and if I wasn't a wizard I might fancy her. No such luck with the sons: they are all ginger. Ew. Am actually sharing a train compartment with one of them named Ron Weasly, as in being so late all other rooms on the train were filled.  
  
Suffered shame when Draco, Sexgod, Malfoy wandered in with two gorillas, named Crabbe and Goyle (hideous boys in monogamous relationship. Probably by circumstance and not choice.). Was obviously hurt and deeply jealous at finding me alone in a train compartment with a redhead! Kept making comments about how I shouldn't hang out with the wrong sort. Left, insulting us, before I could explain situation and dazzle him with story of my nakedness. Sigh. Am doomed to be ginger boy's friend now. Despite his desperation to be my slave, will have none of it. Will pine for Draco. With winning formula mantra of "aloof, unavailable ice Queen", am sure to win him back and.oh.train is pulling into station  
  
Entry Twelve  
  
Weight: 7st. Am horrible bubbling mass of fat. Am unattractive. Am alone! Am without a blond boyfriend to console me!  
  
Number of Houses Sorted Into: One  
  
Number of Houses Sorted Into With Gorgeous Evil Blondes: None. Hate my life.  
  
Did not have time yesterday to mention bushy haired obnoxious girl, name Harmonica, that I met on the train. Is obviously a social reject as well, and she too saw me in my compromising position of alone-ness with ginger haired boy. She even noted that he had a smudge of dirt on his nose. Was not only sharing compartment with redhead, but unwashed mass of redhead! Will the shame never end! Harmonica seems to think herself better than me as has read "Hogwarts: A History". Think I will try and ignore her and fight urges to staple things to her head. Also met an inconsequential boy named Neville. Consequently felt v. good about self, despite hideous lighting scar, which Ron horrified me by showing some sort of fetish for.  
  
On getting out of train even managed to squish a toad under my shoe. Hate my life. Had frog guts all over my soles as I trudged into boat, skimmed across lake and finally arrived at Hogwarts. Have never seen a pig of any sort with a wart, or any other strange boil, but feel that had a hog a wart it would resemble something of this school's architectural disaster. One must believe in magic to see how this thing stands, from an engineer's point of view. Was feeling rather tempted to ask Professor McGonagall about the actually structural capacity of student-smushing-capable stone walls but never got the chance. Instead was given lecture about the sorting process by the prune-faced, and, by the sneer on her face, sexually unsatisfied, professor. Apparently future of self is dependant on smelly old hat. Am convinced of wizarding world's deranged tendencies now.  
  
Draco was put in Slytherin, so his blond badassed self must be pleased. Fear I took aloof, unavailable ice queen thing too far when I begged the sorting hat not to put me in Slytherin. Instead am with Gryffindors. Am foolish twit. Could have been sharing a dorm with Malfoy but not me. No. Not Potter. Could have watched him dress and undress.especially undress, would have been bloody good. Mmmmmmmm.Instead get to listen to Ron snore. Am never going to be a great wizard now. Sigh.  
  
Later:  
  
Had v. wonderful dream about Draco. He was laughing gleefully. He is v. gorgeous when he smiles. Woke up all sweaty. V. good. Dreaming about Snape not nearly as satisfying. He is old, and his hair in the runner up category of most unmanageable hair, next to Harmonica, or Hermin, or whatever that bushy girl's name was. Besides, Snape is already spending time with headmaster, at least that's what Hagrid thinks.  
  
V. sleepy still. Will go back to bed.  
  
Later:  
  
Damn Ron. He won't stop snoring.  
  
Later Still:  
  
Bloody hell. Have to go to the toilet.  
  
Later Still:  
  
Met up with bad Irish stereotype in comun room. Name Seaman. Nonono. Was Seamus. Gave me bad cliched whiskey. Noffinf exploding. Heh. Ophff. Fell ovr. Ron still snoring. Dam him. Goin dream more of Malfoy. Drool. 


End file.
